


Let's Celebrate With Wine And Sweet Words

by ladypigswagon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:18:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6582781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladypigswagon/pseuds/ladypigswagon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t know whether you’ve noticed,” Stiles says as he walks through Peter’s front door, Peter’s mail in his hand. “But there’s a new ice cream place in town which is probably run by witches and we should check it out. You know, in case it’s a nefarious front for something.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Celebrate With Wine And Sweet Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nezstorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/gifts).



> Written for Nezstorm whose birthday is today (17th April), such a wonderful, fantastic, beautiful person. I adore them so I wrote them fic to demonstrate such love.

“I don’t know whether you’ve noticed,” Stiles says as he walks through Peter’s front door, Peter’s mail in his hand. “But there’s a new ice cream place in town which is probably run by witches and we should check it out. You know, in case it’s a nefarious front for something.”

 

“Nefarious front?” Peter asks, accepting his mail. He has long ago accepted that Stiles can and will break into everything and anything to satisfy curiosity. Why should Peter’s mailbox be any different? In fact, it saves Peter having to go downstairs to retrieve his mail and getting shanghaied into putting up a shelf or screwing in a light bulb for Mrs. Garcia.

 

“You just know it’s nefarious,” Stiles mutters. Peter gathers from that look in his eyes that Stiles is unlikely to drop this until they go but Peter is making salted caramel hot chocolate.

 

“Shoes,” Peter comments wandering back to the kitchen. He enjoys the sound of Stiles struggling to get those hideous Joker converse off his feet. He always ties them a little too tight.

 

Peter puts his mail on the counter, grabbing another mug from the cupboard before taking the saucepan of hot chocolate off the stove. He pours the liquid into the two mugs, adding tiny marshmallows to both. Peter is fully aware that six months ago he didn’t have mini marshmallows in his apartment but that’s what happens when Stiles decides to insert himself into your life. He’s pretty sure he didn’t use to own an R2-D2 eggcup either but somehow that had ended up in his cupboard.

 

Peter takes a sip, flicking through his mail. It’s mostly junk, nothing of importance until he reaches the last letter. Lilac envelope, his name and address in a lazy, inelegant scrawl. A scrawl he recognizes all too well. Peter uses a claw to open it, slightly worried about what it might contain. He pulls out the card and his suspicions are confirmed.

 

“What is it?” Stiles asks, walking into the kitchen. He makes happy noises when he grabs his hot chocolate, a pornographic moan when he actually tastes it.

 

“It’s a birthday card,” Peter says, “From Cora.”

 

It’s bright, obnoxious pink with the words ‘ _Another Birthday? It could be worse, you could be knocked up’_ written in calligraphy on the front.

 

“Oh, when’s your birthday?” Stiles asks.

 

“Today,” Peter replies, reading Cora’s message inside. It’s vaguely sentimental in between the snark. Peter lifts his head when he smells the bitter scent of anger. Stiles looks incredibly unimpressed.

 

“It was your birthday and you didn’t tell me.”

 

“There hasn’t exactly been many opportunities to bring it up,” Peter replies, “Nor any reason to. I was perfectly happy not mentioning it or celebrating.”

 

“No one should spend their birthday alone. But if that’s how you really feel,” Stiles says, taking a long sip of hot chocolate. “Then I guess you won’t want your present.”

 

Stiles is smirking, evidently enjoying Peter’s dumbfounded expression.

 

“You got me a birthday present?”

 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” Stiles says, “That’s so insulting. Anyway, now I have to put my shoes back on so we can spend your birthday properly.”

 

“It’s not a surprise party is it?”

 

Stiles raises an eyebrow.

 

“No, actually I got you a dog collar, it says _Stiles one and only_ in pink diamanté on the tag.”

 

Peter knows Stiles is lying but it doesn’t stop him for cuffing Stiles on the back of the head. Affectionately of course.

 

//

 

Stiles has paid for a wine tasting at the local vineyard. They take a tour of the vineyard followed by a selection of wines to sample. Stiles sniffs each wine with gusto and telling Peter all the things he can smell.

 

“Ah, this smells like the cheapest wine here that I still probably couldn’t afford.”

 

“Oh really?” Peter replies, smirking, “Because I was getting jasmine.”

 

Apparently winetasting is only the beginning.

 

They go to the museum, Stiles rattling off facts about the statues and paintings. Peter is sure only half of them are true.

 

Then Stiles takes him to the arcade. Peter gives into his competitive side, determined to win something. Either all these games are fixed or Stiles just has a knack for it, but somehow Stiles wins a large grey wolf plush toy.

 

“It even has blue eyes,” Stiles says excitedly, presenting it to Peter with a wide grin on his face.

 

They end up back at Peter’s apartment. Stiles forces Peter to sit on the couch, telling him to close his eyes.

 

“No peeking,” Stiles orders. Peter makes a show of holding his hands over his eyes. Doesn’t stop him from tracking Stiles by scent and sound. Stiles is barefoot, a fact that warms Peter’s heart. That Stiles is comfortable enough to walk around the apartment barefoot.

 

“Ok you can look now,” Stiles, says. Peter opens his eyes. Stiles is holding a rectangular package. It’s wrapped in brown paper, tied with white ribbon. Peter takes it, opening it slowly whilst Stiles flops down next to him on the couch.

 

It’s a photo album, white leather with the Hale triskelion embossed in the center. Peter goes through it attentively, each page has family photos that Peter assumed were lost to the fire. A few photos have singed edges but most are pristine. Peter holding the county trophy for the basketball championship. Laura and Derek at Halloween when they’d gone as Mulder and Scully. Peter’s graduation from Stanford. The last few pages contain the new Hale pack; Derek squashed beneath his betas with Peter laughing in the corner; Erica and Peter by the lake wearing sunglasses and relaxing on beach towels; Stiles and Peter at New Years. Stiles is looking at Peter, a happy grin on his face. Peter is looking at Stiles like he’s the moon.

 

“How?” Peter begins, not sure how to finish.

 

“I may have got in contact with anyone who ever knew you like ever and merciless bullied them into giving up any Hale related photos,” Stiles replies, “Some are from the Hale vault. I made copies so Derek and Cora have them as well.”

 

Peter isn’t sure what to say. He places the album down carefully on the coffee table.

 

“Stiles, why?”

 

“Because I like you dumbass,” Stiles retorts, “Now kiss me, I know you want to.”

 

Peter does. He sinks into the feeling of Stiles soft lips, warm and yielding tongue. Stiles responds eagerly, tongue tracing Peter’s bottom lip before teeth nip it teasingly. Stiles smells like freshly mown grass and tastes like cotton candy from the arcade.

 

“You were right,” Peter murmurs, stealing a few more kisses between words, “I’m glad I didn’t spend my birthday alone.”

 

“I’m always right,” Stiles responds, “You should be used to this by now.”

 

Peter laughs. Not a bad birthday after all.


End file.
